Free The Housewife Blues by Warren Adler

enter the apartment of two gay men with a key
of his own. However she tried to dismiss the idea, it did have the connotation
of seduction, of innocence corrupted.
    "Couldn't be your period," Larry said, observing
her. Her expression must have revealed her disturbing feelings.
    "I'm fine," she responded, forcing a smile.
"Besides, I'm not due for another two weeks."
    "I know."
    There was, she decided, a limit to his thoroughness, but
she didn't confront him with that. He got up from the table, wandered into the
living room, and began to read The New York Times, leaving her to her
own thoughts. There was no point in dwelling on Teddy Stern's dilemma, she
finally told herself. Good sense must prevail. She remembered what her father
once told her: Never worry about the things you can't do anything about.
    To get Teddy out of her mind, she deliberately made certain
that she was not near the window at the approximate time she knew that Teddy
entered the ground-floor apartment. Then one afternoon, when she was in the
midst of sewing together a bedspread for their four-poster bed, she heard the
familiar buzz of the intercom. Although she had become wary of answering it in
the middle of the day, depending on her mood, she decided that perhaps she was
becoming too reclusive and that Larry's constant barrage of foreboding was
becoming too suffocating. She responded to the buzz.
    "I'm Teddy Stern, apartment five upstairs. I lost my
keys. Could you let me in, please?" His voice was young and appealing, and
all sense of defensiveness disappeared.
    "Of course."
    She rang the buzzer and heard the door open. It seemed
appropriate for her to open her apartment door and greet the boy.
    "I really appreciate this," Teddy said, nervously
pressing the elevator button. She could hear the grinding mechanism as the
elevator lumbered downward.
    "Isn't that what neighbors are for?"
    "Yes, Mrs. Burns," Teddy said politely.
    Up close, he looked just this side of puberty, with a thin
fuzz of black mustache on his upper lip that barely set off his complexion. His
eyes were a limpid dark brown with long black lashes, which was his most
striking feature. A shock of curly hair fell over his forehead. A prominent Adam's
apple bobbed in his thin neck as he spoke. Slender and already taller than
Jenny, he carried a much abused carryall over one shoulder.
    "It's not much fun losing your keys," she said.
    "It was dumb."
    She realized suddenly that she was staring at him. Worse,
she knew she was inspecting him for any signs of femininity or any telltale
characteristics that might be interpreted as homosexual. The idea of it was
appalling and embarrassing.
    The elevator came and Teddy opened the metal gate and
peered at her from inside the cab.
    "My dad thinks I'm absentminded," he said. He
closed the metal gate but still did not press the button.
    "I guess you have the key to the apartment,"
Jenny said. It was a question in the form of a statement. He peered at her from
behind the metal latticework of the gate.
    "Actually, no. I was going to sit on the stairs and do
my homework," Teddy said. He was, she realized, neither a boy nor a man,
but that hybrid that occurred just before a boy began to shave. An image of her
high school days intruded, and she remembered how swiftly the change took
place. One moment the boys were more interested in their own company, and the
next they were trying to play with the girls' breasts. The memory triggered a
more ominous image.
    "That's silly. You'll be far more comfortable in my
apartment." She wanted to add that she would be happy to give him milk and
cookies, realizing instantly that he would probably resent the offer.
    He seemed to be mulling over her invitation. Finally he
shrugged and reopened the elevator gate.
    "You wouldn't disturb me. I'm just doing some
sewing."
    He followed her into the apartment, inspecting it as he
entered.
    "I was just making myself a cup of tea," Jenny
lied. "Can I get you a cup?"
    "Great," he